


Of Herbs, Spices, and Really Good Soup

by Burning_Feather



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe, Boys In Love, Domestic Fluff, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, George Isn't Colorblind, Hurt/Comfort, Injury, Injury Recovery, Light Angst, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-16
Updated: 2020-10-09
Packaged: 2021-03-06 16:15:13
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 9,515
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26481757
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Burning_Feather/pseuds/Burning_Feather
Summary: "The woods are dangerous. Stay out.""Well, why are they so dangerous?"-------George, a baker who just moved to town, gets curious about the rumors of a man in the woods. He decides to investigate them for himself.
Relationships: Clay | Dream & GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF), Clay | Dream/GeorgeNotFound (Video Blogging RPF)
Comments: 151
Kudos: 474





	1. Of Baked Goods and Adventures

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Word Time](https://archiveofourown.org/works/24931861) by [Ship_On_The_Sea](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ship_On_The_Sea/pseuds/Ship_On_The_Sea). 



> **Important**  
>  First of all, thank you to Ship_On_The_Sea for the amazing prompt, I hope I did it justice! 
> 
> Second, I do not actually ship the people, just their personas! If in any way this makes them uncomfortable or I am asked to take this down I will take it down/edit it with no questions asked. Please don't shove this ship in the creators' faces as well. With that out of the way, enjoy the writing!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: Injury, passing out**
> 
> If there's anything potentially triggering that I didn't mark feel free to let me know (if you're comfortable with that)

"Hey, you're the new baker?" The guard stood in front of George, extending his hand. George took it tentatively. "That's me." He offered a sheepish smile. "I'm Technoblade, you can call me Techno. I help guard this place and keep these nerds safe." Techno dropped his hand. He wore the formal uniform of a guard with a red cloak to protect against the bite of the Autumn air. "Good to know."

"Yeah. Let me know if you need something." George dipped his head absentmindedly and turned to go. "Oh, and George?"

"Yeah?"

"The woods are dangerous. Stay out."

"Well, why are they so dangerous?"

"There's a man. He's not safe to be near, and the woods are his."

"...Okay. So stay clear?"

"Stay clear." Techno turned away, his cloak swooshing for added dramatic effect. George picked up his brown leather satchel from where it had been forgotten in the dust and continued his walk back to his home. He had just moved a few days prior and was still settling, but the town welcomed him and his baked goods with open arms. It seems everyone could use some extra bread and pastries in their lives. George scuffed his feet in the dirt, unable to get the thought of the woods out of his head. He tried to distract himself with thoughts of his job, but it was to no avail. The mystery man in the woods wouldn't leave his mind. 

George walked into his bakery and the bell jingled. He walked straight past the counter and into the back. He needed to get his mind off of the woods, and he needed more bread dough for the next day, which just so happened to work in his favor.

He added yeast, warm water, and a bit of sugar into a bowl. _What does he look like?_ In a separate bowl, flour, salt, and a bit more sugar were whisked together. _Why is he so dangerous?_ After the yeast mix was ready, he added it to the dry ingredients and put in some oil. _Is he even real? He could be a children's tale._ George mixed until a dough started to form and put the dough onto a clean countertop. He began to knead. _Could I meet him? No, George, stop thinking like that,_ he firmly reminded himself. He felt a twinge of frustration at his curiosity going unsettled, but it couldn't be helped. _Woods are off-limits. You heard the guard._ He finished kneading the bread and left it in an oiled bowl to rise.

The dough was made, the bowl was covered, the lights were turned off, and at long last George go to bed. He padded up the stairs to his home, situated just above the bakery. He changed into night-clothes and collapsed onto his bed. His eyes were shut but sleep wouldn't come. The man in the woods wouldn't leave his mind.

The man followed George even in his dreams. He dreamt of a shadow over his shoulder chasing him, he dreamt of being caught. Finally, the dreams faded into only residual terror. The first thing George was aware of when he woke up was the freezing air on his arms. His rapidly beating heart didn't help the slight shaking of his hands left over from his dream, Quickly, a white button-down and charcoal gray trousers replaced his nightclothes. He put on socks and brown walking shoes before rushing downstairs.

An unsteady feeling took root in his stomach, making him jumpy and making his legs weak. The bread from the night before sat in its bowl on the counter. George took off the cloth covering and punched it down, re-covering it. Already-prepared dough was put into the oven and set to bake. Loaves and pastries were set out in cases for display. The baker set a kettle to boil over a stove, hoping a cup of tea would settle his nerves before the day truly began. 

The tea didn't settle his nerves. Neither did his customers' small talk. Neither did the sales, or the sandwich he had for lunch, along with a second cup of tea. When George finally closed his bakery, he had gotten it into his head that the only way to cure his fear was to venture into the woods and prove to himself that nobody was really there. _There are guards,_ he rationalized. _They would take care of any real threat._ Still, he felt a twinge of excitement and... was that fear?

Preoccupied with his wonderings, George began to pack essentials for a short journey. A bit of food, a canteen of water, a pocket knife, and a compass were all placed in with little thought. He finally changed into a more practical pair of shoes and was ready to head out.

The bakery was locked up as George stepped into the crisp air. Cold had set in rather quickly that year, and the baker lamented not bringing a coat of some sort. He meandered through the dusty roads to the edge of town. Despite the apprehension that still followed him, and that even grew stronger at the cusp of the woods, he still stepped into the trees.

Immediately a gust of wind cut through the thin fabric of his shirt. George shivered. He did, however, continue. _A short walk. That's all I need to reassure myself._ The baker continued to stroll through the woods, occasionally encountering a squirrel or rabbit. There was no dangerous man chasing him down. The vice of fear around his chest finally loosened its grip enough for him to take a full breath again.

Just as George was about to head back to the town, no doubt with a sarcastic comment made to Techno about the "man in the woods," he heard a low chuffing behind him and wheeled with a shout, the nerves that had plagued him before crashing down again. He was met with an awful sight to behold unprepared: a clearly angry moose.

George swore and slowly backed away, but the moose continued to paw at the ground before charging. George began to run, attempting to dive behind a tree, but the moose struck with its hooves, slashing open the back of his calf. A searing pain crept up his leg, and the man fell to the ground. It felt like someone had taken a cheese grater to his nerves. The baker squeezed his eyes tightly shut, lightheadedness setting in due to the blood loss. He was vaguely aware of a thud next to him, a hand on his arm, and a _"tch"_ sound from the opposite side of the thud. Then, there was nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, thanks for reading everyone, and constructive criticism is welcome! Let's hope I can update again today, but with my motivation? Who knows.


	2. Of First Meetings and Warm Broth

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: Blood/bleeding, cleaning wounds**
> 
> If there's something potentially triggering in here that I didn't mention feel free to let me know in the comments. 
> 
> Hi again, folks. This took a hot second to write, a lot got deleted because I forgot to save when I went back to chapter 1 to add some trigger warnings, so apologies if it is a bit lackluster.

Dream just wanted to have more herbs. He didn't know that he would end up in this situation, nor did he expect to have such a big burden to deal with by the end of the day.

Earlier in the same day, he noticed he needed to gather some ingredients, and figured he might as well go foraging. _Hopefully, this will be a quick trip._ He dressed in a basic shirt, trousers, and brown half chaps. Before heading out he saddled up his horse and tied on saddlebags for storage. Fastening a forest green cloak around his shoulders, he grabbed his bow and quiver, swinging up into the saddle.

He picked up a trot, headed off into the woods. Occasionally he would stop and pick some herbs or rip up a plant to reroot at his cottage, placing them gently inside his saddlebags. With a bag full of herbs and spices, he was about ready to head back, before he heard a yell. A pang of worry echoed in his heart, and he felt he had to help.

He wheeled his horse around and picked up the pace. He guided his horse through the trees. On a dime, he stopped, noticing a moose clearly charging something. He fired three quick shots from his bow, The moose collapsed and twitched once before stilling. Dream could finally see the source of the scream- a man, laying in the dirt. He could feel his breath catch in his chest, the boy had to be the most handsome thing he'd ever seen. _None of that now_. Beside him was a bag with various pastries spilling out.

He dismounted quickly, trusting his horse to stay in the area. Dream walked briskly forward and knelt, placing his hand on the boy's arm. The boy flinched at the touch. "Tch, what happened here? Where's the issue... oh," he breathed, eyes wide. "That's the problem." There was a deep gash on the back of Pastry Boy's left leg. By now, he was completely unresponsive and blood had soaked into his pants and the ground below him.

Dream thought quickly. There was only a small chance that Pastry Boy would survive the way back to his cottage with the injury he had sustained left untended. In a flash of inspiration, he noticed a napkin packed in with the pastries once contained in the boy's bag. He tied it around Pastry Boy's leg to help staunch the bleeding.

He picked up the smaller man carefully, carrying him to where the horse was waiting and placing him onto the saddle, pushing him forward to leave room for Dream. Dream swung up behind Pastry Boy and put his arms around the man to reach the reins. After he had taken the reins and situated himself in the saddle, he picked up a gentle trot in hopes to move back to his cottage with haste. He couldn't help but worry about the boy on his lap. _I hope he recovers..._

\-----------

Once home, Dream slid down carefully and tied his horse to a hitching post near the door. "Sorry, buddy." he patted the horse's neck. "I'll be right out to get you." _For now, this guy not dying is a bit more important,_ the woodsman thought grimly.

He lifted Pastry Boy and carried him inside where his wounds could be properly tended. A towel was placed under his leg, his trousers were cut at the knee, and another rolled towel was under his forehead so that the man could breathe while laying on his stomach. Dream set about treating the wound. He removed the bloody makeshift bandage, cleaned and stitched the cut, finally applying a light bandage. Pastry Boy was moved to a couch and rolled on his side.

When that was done the horse still needed to be put away. He welcomed his owner with a nicker, all too happy to get the saddle off his back. The tack got cleaned, the horse got groomed, the plants were potted and cuttings tucked away. Finally, the horse was turned back out and Dream could get to some cooking. He figured a simple broth would be good and easy on the system.

He walked back in and washed his hands and pulled out a knife and vegetables. _Who is he? From the town, of course._ A chopped onion was thrown into a large pot. _Someone sent to get me?_ Carrots, celery, mushrooms, and other vegetables joined the onions. _He would've had better equipment if that was the case..._ He added oil, water, salt, and spices. _No matter that, he needs help._ Dream put the pot over the stove, bringing it up to a boil. He covered the pot.

His gaze turned to Pastry Boy who shivered a bit. It was funny how it happened, but suddenly, Dream's cloak was laid over him like a blanket instead of clasped around his own shoulders. _Why did I do that?_ Pastry Boy's shivers had ceased. Dream felt a bit of contentedness swirl around him. He reprimanded himself for getting attached so quickly- for heaven's sake, the guy wasn't even awake yet! _S_ _till,_ he reasoned, _I did save his life and all._

Loud bubbling noises interrupted the man's thoughts. He returned to the stove and stirred the pot, lifting the spoon to taste the stuff and see what it needs. Just a bit more salt was added. Dream lifted the spoon to take another taste but he didn't blow on the hot liquid enough. His tongue was burned, and he promptly dropped the spoon, which made a loud noise as it fell to the floor. From the couch he heard rustling fabric. Dream whipped his head around and was met with a panicked gaze.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let's hope I can get a third chapter out tomorrow. Constructive criticism is always appreciated, and once again, thanks for reading!


	3. Of Rumors and Comfort

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: Medication/pills**
> 
> Big props to my friends for motivating me to get this one written. Seriously, I don't know where my drive went. Almost just didn't post this.

George was drifting in the void. It was a warm, comfortable void to be in, but he still wanted to rejoin the waking world. He focused on his surroundings. A soft blanket and couch slowly faded into existence around him. There was a bit of an ache on the back of his leg, but it wasn't too much at that moment.

The baker curled his fingers into fists and inhaled deeply. Cinnamon and pine invaded his nose. The unfamiliar scents finally brought him back to consciousness with a jolt. He shot up and scrambled backwards in a panic, hissing in pain when his leg started throbbing again. Almost immediately, he was met with deep green eyes that seemed to hold concern. 

The other man that George was seeing was tall and blond, with a spattering of freckles over his nose like someone had flicked a paintbrush at him- _he_ did _look like something out of a painting,_ George's brain supplied rather unhelpfully. His hair was mildly wavy and his nose looked like it had been broken once, but healed quite nicely. He had an air of mischief about him. The blond started advancing, and George pressed his back against the couch firmly. "Stay back!"

"Dude, chill out, you're going to tear your stitches." He had a deeper, authoritative voice. "Stitches? Where even am I?"

"Middle of the woods. Do you not remember?" George scoured his memory. The smarting on his calf brought back the memory of the moose and his adventure. _And the man in the woods. Is he..?_ The look on his face must've been alarming since the woodsman reacted with concern. "You alright? Looking a little pale there." 

"I, uh... yeah."

"Sure? Because I can get some water or-"

"No, I'm fine." George paused. _Do I ask him?_ His heart rate increased again as he was overcome by anxiety. _If I ask, he could get mad, and goodness knows I don't need an enemy when I'm hurt. If I don't ask, I could put myself in danger._

"Whatcha thinking about?" George startled a little. "You," he responded automatically. "Aww, I'm flattered!" A furious blush broke out on George's face as the woodsman grinned widely. "Not like that! I was more wondering, like, your name?"

"Oh." The woodsman paused. "Call me Dream." 

"Dream... I like it."

"Well I should hope! What's yours?"

"George." The woodsman - Dream - nodded. Thick silence settled on them like a blanket. The baker squirmed under the other man's gaze.

 _Ask. Do it._ "Are you the dangerous guy in the woods?" Dream scrunched up his nose in distaste. "That's what they're calling me now? They could do so much better. Listen, don't pay attention to rumors, I don't kill people. They probably think that I'm magic because I'm the only one who flavors my food well." George muttered a quick "Hey!" at that. "Oh, no offense to you, I haven't tried anything you've made. 

"Point is, people are scared of what they don't understand. They don't understand me wanting to live alone or adventure, they don't understand the flavors I use... so they villainized me. I came out here to escape, but it gets pretty lonely. It's fine, I'm mostly happy." There was a loaded silence as George processed his words as he watched Dream's eyes take on a sad gleam and his face slowly lose it's enthusiasm. 

While he was speaking Dream had gravitated to the opposite end of the couch. George's heart ached for this man he barely knew. _Still, he quite probably saved my life..._ Before George's brain could catch up with his body's actions, he shifted across the couch and wrapped Dream in his arms. He felt Dream stiffen, and for a moment, he feared that he had overstepped his boundaries. The baker let go quickly and looked away with a red face.

When he finally chanced a look back at Dream, he saw the younger man looking vaguely like a kicked puppy. "Can you... do that again? Please?" murmured Dream. He was enveloped by the smaller's arms once again. George ran his hands up and down Dream's back, slowly rocking side to side. 

The baker carded his fingers through the other's hair. He heard a heavy sigh and felt a chin resting gently on his head. _He smells like pine trees, and cinnamon..._ _Don't think like that. It's weird._ "This okay, Dream?"

"Mhm." They stayed like that for a few minutes. George was warm and content. He knew that he had to think about the feelings that were swirling around them eventually, and what they might mean, but for now he was happy to just enjoy the feeling of being hugged. 

Dream dropped his arms and lifted his head. "Thank you." The baker patted his shoulder and smiled. "I have to go get the soup off the stove." George was only sad for a moment at the loss of contact, before perking back up at the mention of soup. He was quite hungry, understandably.

He watched while Dream ladled dishes of some kind of broth. Steam swirled up from the bowls that Dream was walking back with. George reached out to take his, hissing slightly at the heat and setting it in his lap quickly. The woodsman chortled and took a bite of his own soup. "How do you do that? It's so hot!" 

"Just blow on the spoon and don't keep it in the soup when you aren't eating. Not that hard." The baker tried this and it worked just fine. He was shocked to find a soup full of rich flavor. The texture of the vegetables was firm enough to hold their flavor, but soft enough to not feel out of place. His eyes widened as he took a second and third bite. "Hey, this is good!"

"Thanks. Your leg bothering you?" George winced now that it was brought to his attention. After being alerted, he could feel the burning pain on the back of his calf. "Mhm"

"Let me grab something for that." 

"It's really fine-"

"I don't want to see you hurting," Dream commented softly. "Let me help." He stood and set his bowl down on a mini table by the arm of the couch. Soon, he returned with a bottle that rattled when it shook. A little white pill was shaken into his palm and offered to George.

"This will get rid of the pain, but it will make you drowsy and maybe a little loopy. That okay?" George nodded, taking and swallowing the medicine. "You can sleep on the couch if you don't want to move or take the spare room." 

"Here is good. Sit with me?" 

"Yeah, let me grab my bowl." Dream sat down next to George, making conversation over their dinner.

\----------

George could feel when the medicine kicked in. It started when his eyelids drooped and the woodsman took their bowls to wash. The heaviness in his limbs spread to his chest and head, so naturally, when Dream returned to the couch, he was used as a headrest, and then George was being fully supported by the man next to him. It didn't come as a surprise when he felt himself slipping into a warm and comforting sleep. This time, he didn't expect to be plagued by nightmares. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha 3rd chapter go brrr  
> adenosine more like caffeine
> 
> On a more serious note, thank you to everyone who left kudos/commented so far! My need for external validation is very happy at the moment (600 hits and almost 100 kudos in a day? I am overjoyed). Did you know this was originally going to be about 1-2k words? Yeah that got thrown out the window pretty quickly. As always, constructive criticism and feedback are welcome!


	4. Of Author's Notes and Apologies

Dearest readers,

Sorry for not updating yesterday, I was really busy and hadn't written anything ahead of time. There will be a fourth chapter out tonight, I swear!

I actually wanted to ask, are there any equestrians reading this? I am this close to writing an equestrian AU for the dream team. You can't see it, but my fingers are touching. If you have any thoughts please consider leaving a comment and I'll do my best to get back to you!

Thanks,   
Burning_Feather


	5. Of Breakfast and Forest Scenery

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all! My dear friend, who's been on Wattpad for a bit, recently joined AO3. Her user is idiotsandwhich27. Let's welcome her to the big kids table (no offense to Wattpad of course)! 
> 
> Also I'd like to apologize again for this chapter, I had a busy morning and some motivation issues, so most of this was pushed out in 30 minutes as filler and set up for tomorrow's chapter, which will have more (and better) actual content and plot.

Dream knew he shouldn't think too much of his friend's actions. He knew that it was the medication dropping his boundaries. His brain was willing to brush it off, his heart not so much. The giddiness that came every time he looked at the sleeping boy wouldn't be quelled. _He's just going to leave. You can't get attached._ Still, Dream's heart leapt when George shifted so that his back was against the taller man's side.

"Hey George." The baker stirred gently. "George, you have to let me go." 

"No thank you."

"As cute as you're being," teased Dream, "I do need to get up." George cracked open his eyes and turned to stare, seeming awake now, and Dream felt his breath catch in his chest. "What did you say?"

"I- uh, nothing?"

"Sure. Now I just want to sleep, please don't wake me up."

"You're literally laying on me dude." George shot back, wincing at the pain in his leg at the motion as his face turned a bright shade of red. "Sorry!" he squeaked. "It's fine, it was nice. I'm going to go to bed. Wake me if you need anything." George nodded, already curling up again, this time under Dream's cloak he had left on the couch. It was very cozy, and in no time, he was drifting off to sleep again.

~~~~

"Wake up. Wake up. Get up. Eat breakfast." George roused at the tapping on his shoulder and the words, the white fog in his mind clearing slowly. "You're awake, get up." As soon as George sat up, a plate of roasted potatoes and scrambled eggs was shoved into his hands. "Why in such a hurry?" George asked. Dream shook his head, a mischievous glint in his eyes and a smile playing on his lips. "Just eat."

"Okay then. Not ominous at all." The baker took a fork and ate the food, nodding in appreciation at the cooking every so often. Soon enough his plate was clear and Dream took it to clean. He leaned back while the water ran, allowing the sounds and domestic atmosphere to foster a sense of peace deep within him. The mood was ruined, however, when a clatter rang out as the plate was put away. 

Dream turned back to George and held his hands out placatingly. "I need to change your bandages and check on that cut, it was pretty nasty."

"That's fine."

"...Can you come here real quick?"

"Yeah, why?"

"So I can change your bandages."

"Oh, now?"

"Yeah, now!" Dream wheezed, bringing a hand up by his mouth. "It's not that funny!" This only encouraged the taller man, who slapped his leg and bent at the waist. "Really!" George's attempts to defend himself were only met with more laughter. Both men's faces were red by now, although for different reasons.

Dream finally righted himself and sighed once, approaching George and signaling for the boy to lay on his back. He gently unraveled the bandages and hummed absently before applying something cold that took away some of the feeling in the area, then rewrapping it. "It's healing nicely. You got lucky back there." George sat back up and Dream stepped back. "Thank you." 

"It's nothing."

"No, I mean, _thank you._ For everything."

"Oh." Dream looked away. "So, want to go out around the area? I can show you some nice spots." 

"I can't walk that much, idiot." Dream grinned, and George couldn't help but admire his face. _No, stop it, don't think like that. You can't think like that._ He felt a pang of longing when the other man's face relaxed into a soft smile. "Just wait here. I'll come get you when it's time to head out." He walked out the door of the cabin and shut the door, leaving George alone.

So George waited. And waited. And waited some more. Just when he thought he was going to keel over and die of boredom, Dream came back through the door. "Can you walk a bit, George?" George nodded and stood, his friend rushing to support him and grabbing his discarded cloak.

He led George out the door and George gasped when he saw a unnaturally clean dapple gray horse standing nearby. The horse had a handsome head, and George stared dumbly at the animal. "Oh, yeah. That's Cirrus. I got him a ways away a year or two ago. He's good, I promise." Cirrus nickered, as if in agreement. "He's really pretty." Dream chortled, a smile on his face. "You need help getting up there?" George nodded, blushing.

He blushed even more as the woodsman picked him up by his hips and then walking over and depositing him on Cirrus. The gray was sturdy underneath him, which helped him keep his balance when Dream fastened his cloak, took the reins, and swung up behind him. Dream waited for the baker to get his bearings. "You good to go?" At George's nod, he squeezed his calves and clicked his tongue, taking up the reins with his arms around George.

They started off on a small path that cut through the trees. George inhaled deeply, breathing in the crisp air. He felt at peace, a friend behind him and lovely scenery in front. "Think we can go for a little trot?" Dream cut into his thoughts.

"I could? It's been a while."

"Scoot back towards me." George complied and wiggled backwards a bit. He yelped as an arm circled his waist, pulling him almost all the way into the other man's lap. The arm stayed around him as Dream urged Cirrus into a smooth trot. George relaxed into the movement. He couldn't help but feel at ease. 

All too soon, Dream leaned back and took his arm away from George's waist, instead using it to tug on the reins lightly, slowing back down to the walk. "Was that fun?"

"Mhm." 

Their ride continued in companionable silence, until George had to break it. "Hey Dream?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something? Other than what I just asked."

"Of course."

"Can I go back to the town?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading, constructive criticism is always welcome! Also: 1k hits? That is so surreal.


	6. Of Mornings and Arguments

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **TW: Yelling, brief description of something similar to a panic attack.**
> 
> Another poorly written chapter that got thrown together in fifteen minutes! Yay! Sorry in advance for this one, folks.

"Can I go back to the town?"

"What?" Dream was shocked. He cursed himself for letting a note of hurt into his voice, watching as George cringed at his tone. "George, you still can't walk properly! I-" _I just found someone who understands..._ The cold air was no longer invigorating, it only reinforced the sense of loneliness that Dream had dealt with for so long. He never noticed how upsetting being lonely was until the burden was lifted and promptly came crashing down on his shoulders.

George wasn't faring much better. It pained him to ask, to ask to distance himself from a person who had been so kind and friendly. He could tell how much Dream was hurting and how much he had been hurting. George was hurting now too, he was afraid. He was afraid of getting too attached to the man in the woods. He was afraid that if he stayed any longer, he wouldn't be able to leave.

"I need to go back to the town."

"No, you need to heal." 

"You don't _understand!_ I have a bakery to run, and a life to get back to." Dream winced as George raised his voice until he was almost shouting. "People in town are probably worried. _I'd_ be worried if someone just disappeared. I can't disappear." 

Dream felt his eyes start to burn as he fought off tears. He knew that the baker's words should affect him as much as they did. His feelings were irrational- but then again, when were feelings ever rational?

" _Please_ , Dream." George's tone had softened. The silence stretched out between them, and George began to worry. _Did I overstep? Is he okay?_ "You stay one more night. Tomorrow morning I can take you back." Dream's voice broke. He hated letting George see the anguish that he felt. He hated the vulnerable feeling that the shorter man left him with- yet he couldn't get enough. "Okay. One night."

The tension was palpable as Dream turned Cirrus around, heading back towards his cabin. The two men were still pressed together from the brief trot, and yet, somehow, it felt to both like they had never been further apart. 

Immediately after arriving back at the cabin the woodsman dismounted awkwardly. He held George's lower arm firmly while he followed suit, and then dropped it quickly. George couldn't deny the ache in his chest at his host's stiff manner. "You can head in," said Dream gruffly. George did what he was told and sat down on the couch while Dream tended to his horse. 

When the blonde stepped back in, he shut the door and breezed right past George, making sandwiches. _Why is he acting like this?_ George couldn't help but blame himself. He, after all, was the one that had asked to go back. 

Dream finished the sandwiches and handed George one. He bit into his own, wrinkling his nose at the bland taste. He couldn't help but miss the warm atmosphere that had come with their previous meals. His heart squeezed at the memory of a mere day ago, when they had eaten companionably and chatted, but now there was only silence.

The blond longed for the easy conversation, but as it was, he had nothing to do except work, so work he did. Dream took care of his own plate, neglecting to do the same for his guest. He then walked into the study, adjoining the main room that George was resting in. He penned letters to old friends and wrote logs of what had happened the past few days, steadfastly ignoring the anguish that clung to him like a fog.

George, meanwhile, couldn't do anything except wish that things were different. That he had acted differently. He wished that he could just be a little more patient, that he could've trusted Dream to get him back to his home in time. Prickling started at the corners of his eyes, his breathing sped up a tad, and he sunk further into the waves of panic that threatened to engulf him. His heart picked up the pace, his rib cage crushing his lungs like a vice. George could barely breathe. 

Dream was so absorbed in his work that it really wasn't a wonder that it took him so long to notice the light sobs coming from the couch in the other room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This was supposed to be a lighthearted one-shot. There was not going to be angst. I guess I'll fix this tomorrow, probably. 
> 
> Anyway, thank you guys for reading, and sorry about this chapter being super short. Couldn't figure out how to stretch this for longer than I did. Constructive criticism is always welcome!


	7. Of Forgiveness and Reconciliation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW: Description of a panic attack, bit o' cursing**  
>  Sorry for being late I was dealing with stuff. Might note that this description isn't accurate to everyone, I described how I experience panic attacks personally.

Once Dream finally did realize the predicament his guest was in, their spat was immediately forgotten. Some instinct within him knocked down the wall his pride had built between them. Dream sat up, only just catching his chair before it fell. He skidded through the doorway and knelt in front of the crying man, his face painted with worry as he beheld the sight in front of him, and it was a gut-wrenching sight to behold.

George's complexion had turned red as he panted, desperate for a proper breath, but unable to take one. His eyes were wide open and glazed over as tears slipped from them and down his cheeks. He occasionally shuddered, hands twitching, as he felt fuzziness settle over his head and face. Somewhere in the back of his mind he was aware that static was creeping into the edges of his vision. 

He vaguely registered a voice in front of him. Not quite in front of him, but in front of his body. It pulled him just slightly away from the churning mass that threatened to swallow him up completely. Another deep croon sounded, this time more clearly defined. As the minutes ticked by, he could just start to make out the words.

"-ge? Can I hug you, George?" He wasn't aware of responding, but apparently he had, as he felt gentle arms encircle his shoulders. The pressure brought him further back, and his mind reconnected with the sounds he was hearing and sensations he was feeling. Something soft draped over him. Cinnamon and pine swirled around him, grounding him fully back down to the couch.

The static at the edge of his vision receded, leaving George staring into juniper green eyes alight with concern. Dream hesitantly rubbed a hand up the other man's back. He exhaled sharply when George suddenly reciprocated the hug and buried his nose into Dream's neck.

Dream held George when he was wracked by shudders. He held him regardless of the tears soaking through his shirt. He held him when the shaking stopped abruptly and the smaller man collapsed against his chest, no longer able to hold himself up. _Maybe one day this will happen when one of us isn't having a crisis,_ Dream mused. 

"I, uh," George started, his voice quivering as he shifted to rest his forehead on the other's shoulder.

"Don't talk if you aren't ready."

"I want to. Just- give me a minute."

"Gotcha." Dream wrapped his cloak tighter around the two of them, and for just a moment, everything felt okay. They sat in silence for a long moment while both savored the contact. "Doing better now, man?"

"Yeah."

"What set you off there?"

"God, this is going to sound stupid." George laughed spitefully, squeezing his eyes shut. "I got nervous that I did something wrong and made you mad. Like, you were so happy, and then you were so upset, and it was my fault." 

"You're good." Dream rested his chin on the shorter man's head. "If anything it was my fault for being... like that. Guess I'm pretty messed up after being alone so long." George withdrew from the hug, glaring with still-red eyes. "Don't blame yourself for being driven out."

"Hey, when did this turn into _me_ talking about _my_ issues? Weren't you the one who freaked out?"

"I'm fine now."

Dream shook his head. "We aren't going to do this. You don't get to undermine your issues because you feel uncomfortable talking about them." George's mouth made a small 'o' as he tried to form a rebuttal. "I won't push you to say anything now, but we are going to talk about you staying or going soon."

" _Can_ we talk now?" At Dream's nod, George continued. "I was anxious about getting back soon. I didn't want anyone to be worried, and I have a bakery to run."

"I totally get it, but you're still really injured. It should be pretty numb right now but it won't last."

"So?"

"You're going to have a hard time healing if you're constantly up and moving, and it's not easy to check on the back of your own leg."

"Do it for me then."

"But you're going back to your house, right?"

"Mhm." George looked down. Uncertainty took hold in his gut, but he still looked back up, face aflame. "You could come help?"

Dream's brows furrowed. "I can't go into town!" He rubbed the back of his neck, until George placed a hand on his arm. "I'll be right there with you."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Dream stood, grinning. His eyes danced with excitement once again. George couldn't help but smile back, enjoying the expression on the other's face. It felt great to see him so happy again. "Well then, I better get packing!"

Pack he did. In the span of a few hours, fueled by nothing but adrenaline and some coffee he had made on impulse, everything he would need for a few days of travel had been packed in a small duffel bag, along with a wallet and money. He set the duffel by the front door and sat down on the couch with George, who had been reading a book provided to him.

"Hey."

"Hi." George closed the book around his index finger and sat up further in anticipation. "You ready to leave?"

"Can we stay another night?" At his nod, Dream lounged back against the arm of the couch and reached out his arms, making grabby hands. George could feel his cheeks heat up and his heart speed slightly. _Why does this feel different all of a sudden?_ Apparently he had taken too long to respond, and the woodsman pouted. George could feel a flutter in his stomach at the gesture. _Why do I feel this way because of him now?_

_Oh, shit._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been _very_ out of it for the past few days so this chapter is fairly sub-par and short yet again.  
> Well, thanks for reading, constructive criticism is always welcome, and enjoy your day!


	8. Of Realization and Cuddles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW: Bit o' cursing, kinda? It's like half a curse word**  
>  This chapter is a teeny filler that I threw together quickly, it's basically just fluff, the next one is in the works. It has no point except to appease my friend. I love you my dear, but you really need to stop reading the angstier chapters late at night. We both know that nothing good can come of that unless you wait until I have the resolution posted, and you aren't very patient. Please don't kill me for that <3 I'll get you a Dr. Pepper?

_Well,_ George reasoned, _if I'll be repressing my emotions soon, I might as well indulge a little. It's not like he hates cuddling._ With that in mind, the baker laid down hesitantly, sighing when his back hit the other's chest. He wiggled slightly, making a slight effort to put his neck in a better position.

"You can get comfortable," Dream teased, "you're too light to cause any damage." He muttered a short 'ow!' when the comment earned him a quick pinch to the ribs. Despite his annoyance, George did get comfortable, flipping over so he could rest without causing pain to his back or neck. As soon as he had stopped moving, arms wrapped around his shoulders and drew him even closer. He sighed at the heat radiating up into him and relaxed his shoulders. He hadn't even realized that they were tense. George tucked his nose back into his friend's neck, figuring that he'd be fine with it now if he was before. 

Dream, meanwhile, was on cloud nine. His friend had closed his eyes. He looked at peace, a stark contrast to the panic not too long ago. _I'd be tired too._ Suddenly George's face was against his neck, and he could feel the warm breath. His eyes shot open. There was really no option but to bring a hand up and card his fingers through the brunette's hair. He was only encouraged by the small hum that rewarded his actions, a small trill of happiness shot through him. 

Really, Dream should've thought this through. He couldn't figure out why the man in his arms made his stomach do flips, but he knew that it felt good to have him close. He knew that his heart warmed at the thought of George, he knew that he cared for George, but he didn't know why his body reacted the way it did, hell, he barely understood how he was reacting, but it felt good.

Dream drew himself back to the present. Feelings and thinking could come later. He wasn't opposed to suppressing them until he no longer had to think. Years of solitude could leave a mark, and Dream felt it in the form of emotional insecurity. It was a problem, yes, but that didn't mean it had to be addressed. Right, the present.

George shifted on his chest. In the new position, they could hear each other's heartbeats, and if it wasn't the sweetest lullaby that Dream had ever heard, then he didn't know what was. It strung out a melody that seemed tailor-made towards the blond.

Sleep tugged at him. He tried to resist, he did, but then he heard the soft snores of the man on his chest. 

Dream had no choice but to follow George into a peaceful rest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> man, the gifted kid burnout is really catching up to me. i am not automatically perfect at this level of algebra but being the smart kid is like 90% of my personality in school so ig it's time to question my entire identity as a STEM Kid™


	9. Of Discord Servers and Community

By unpopular demand (my friends told me to) there’s a discord server now, I don’t know why I listened to them.

So, uh, here it is. Join if you want? It isn’t super important, but it would be fun I suppose.

https://discord.gg/MJzBJqc 

**Main Functions**

  * Updates when something is posted
  * Way to discuss works with other people who’ve read them
  * Can influence my writing, make requests/suggestions
  * Give idiotsandwhich27 a place to simp that isn’t the comments section
  * Give other people a place to simp that isn’t the comments section
  * More?



Yeah, that’s it for this one. The next chapter will be out today or tomorrow. Hopefully today, but something is happening tomorrow. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My first time managing a public discord server so it’ll be a rocky road. We’ll get through it together.


	10. Of Relocation and Inconveniences

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW: Brief description of taking a pill**  
>  Miss me? I, uh, took way too long to finish this. Got stuck on that cusp of really wanting to write and actually writing.

All too soon, morning came, and the sun shone onto Dream's face. He growled at the bright light, throwing an arm over his eyes. More sleep seemed like a good idea. George, though, had other plans. He patted the other man's face gently. Nothing changed, except George growing more restless. He repeated the tap with more force.

Finally, Dream woke fully, lifting his arm from his eyes and slapping at George's shoulder. He giggled. As much as he understood the importance of sleep, he would be lying if he said he wasn't a little impatient to be on the road back to the village.

Dream dropped both of his arms back to his sides, allowing George to roll off of him and sit up on the couch. "C'mon, let's get going."

"Are you serious? You just slapped me and you're already trying to get me to leave my house?"

"It wasn't that bad," George teased, "you just couldn't take it."

"Oh, that's it." Dream pushed himself up with his hands and shoved his friend lightly as he stood. "If we're going to go, you need to at least eat breakfast. Eggs?" George nodded, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. He liked watching people cook. He could bake, sure, but cooking was something else. Baking was a science of precise measurements and flavors. Cooking was an art. There was science involved, of course, but cooking gave much more freedom. Watching people cook allowed, for just a moment, to tune in to the rhythm of their work. George loved it.

He watched as Dream cracked eggs into a pan. It was almost laughable how precise Dream's work was in comparison to the dreary eyes and messed-up hair of someone who had just woken. Dream didn't ask how George wanted the eggs, he seemed to be scrambling them on autopilot, letting them sit for just a moment while he added chopped up green onion.

He reached for a cabinet above his head to grab the salt and pepper. Red crept onto George's face. Intentional or not, Dream had made his shirt ride up briefly, exposing his side and part of his back. _Living in the woods... would make you look like that._

"Whatcha lookin' at?" Dream had turned back towards George. He stared right at George, and the baker could've sworn that _god, those eyes could pierce right through your soul_.

George choked, coughing for a moment. "I wasn't staring!" he whined.

"Never said you were."

"Shut up- don't you have eggs to be cooking?" Dream turned back to the pan and shook some pepper in. His eyes shone with mirth. _There's no way he doesn't know what he's doing. Impossible._

A breakfast later, they were almost ready to head out. They took one last look through the house to make sure that everything was tucked away and in order. George couldn't fathom what could be left to do. He indulged his friend anyways. 

"Before we leave, let me take a look at that leg of yours." George complied and laid down on the couch. He rested his head on his forearms. He could feel the gentle prodding at his leg. When the bandages were peeled off, George hissed. He squeezed his eyes shut, feeling again the sandpaper-on-raw-skin sensation that's absence he had taken for granted. "Ooh, sorry. Meds after this is done?" George forced out an "mhm" through gritted teeth.

Again, there was a relief as a cool ointment was applied, but this time, it couldn't cut through all of the burning. The pain subsided some when fresh bandages were wrapped around his leg. George stayed laying down until his shoulder was tapped. He took the glass of water and white tablet, swallowing the pill and chasing it down with the rest of the glass. He grimaced at the bitter taste. 

Dream took the glass back and washed it. He opened the door and closed it behind him, going to fetch Cirrus. _No saddle._ He tied and groomed the horse quickly, stepping back in the house to pack the brushes and beckoned George out with him.

"George, how much experience do you have with horses?" The shorter man shrugged. "Rode more when I was young. Haven't done much since then, apart from the occasional longer trip." Dream nodded, contemplating his answer. "Right. Hang on a sec." He grabbed his cloak and fastened it around his shoulders, equipping a simple white mask as an afterthought. _Nice to have something familiar._

He stepped back out, watching his friend give him a strange look for the mask, but ultimately not questioning it _Thank goodness_. "Hey, are we going to go?" _Oh, right._ He blushed lightly. "Yeah." Dream walked over and gave George a boost, careful to only touch his left leg. He swung up behind him.

George scooted slightly backwards, pressing his arms into his sides as Dream reached around him to take up the reins. He slowly adjusted to the steady rocking of the horse under him. Birdsong echoed through the pine-scented air. His eyes closed of their own accord, and he sighed deeply. George was so relaxed that he hardly noticed the arm that circled around his shoulders and pulled him back to rest against Dream's chest. 

* * *

George was reminded of his destination when he was shaken gently a good half hour later. He leaned off of his friend, taking notice that he was wrapped in the dark green cloth of his cloak. Dream spoke. "Can we canter through the gate? I don't want to run into anyone." George nodded. Dream shifted one of his legs backwards, kicking gently, and they started up at a rhythm reminiscent of a rocking horse.

Everything was going just fine, but then a pink-haired man in a red cloak dashed out, hand on the hilt of a sword at his hip. He raised his free hand, and Dream pulled hard on the reins, stopping at the drop of a hat. George might've flown off if it wasn't for Dream grabbing his shoulder. 

"What are you doing here?" 

George recognized that voice. _The guard. Technoblade._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to my writing playlist for having absolute bops. Ended this on a really dramatic note because the Pirates of the Caribbean theme started playing. It isn't my fault, I swear.
> 
> If you haven't seen, there's a discord server that we set up yesterday! Read the previous chapter for more information if you're considering joining. It's pretty chill as of yet.


	11. Of Fresh Bread and Important Conversations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **TW: Very minor swearing**  
>  Pog it's me again. This moves the plot along a bit, but it's kinda short. Have fun I suppose!

"Why are _you_ here?" Techno felt a surge of annoyance as Dream grinned at him, lifting a finger.

"Ah-ah-ah... The supreme art of war is to subdue the enemy without fighting, is it not?" The guard growled low in his throat. The words of his beloved book sounded garbled and twisted coming from the mouth of such an uncivilized man as Dream. He readjusted his grip on his sword. 

"We're just passing through, aren't we?" Dream nudged George, who nodded hastily. "Just headed back to the bakery." Techno wrinkled his nose. "...Okay. I'll check in with ya later if I get the chance."

"Alright."

Dream clicked his tongue, tapping his calves against Cirrus' flanks. They started moving again and he steered around Techno. _Jeez, I can almost feel the glare._ He slumped, resting his chin on top of George's shoulder. George twisted his head around. "You alright?" Dream sighed. The judging gaze and clear hatred from Techno sapped all of the energy from his bones.

"Yeah, man. Just remembering years of resentment. Doing fine." He winced at his own tone. "Sorry."

"It's fine. Do you want a distraction?"

Dream nodded.

"Okay. I'll talk about running a bakery. So, you have to get up pretty early, to make everything and whatnot. The best part-"

He zoned out as George became more and more animated in his speech. The dour mood lifted somewhat the more his friend talked. Soon, a small smile was tugging at Dream's lips. His newfound positivity persisted all the way through the rest of the trip, and up to George's home and bakery.

He walked with a bounce in his step as George showed him a conveniently empty pen for Cirrus. The grin stayed on his face as George pointed out the nearby buildings and the rooms inside his house, and it only began to fade when they were sitting side-by-side on George's dark gray couch.

"What do you normally do all day?"

"Bake." George stared at him with a deadpan expression. He wheezed, ignoring the slap on the shoulder and the muttered "It's not that funny..."

"No, seriously, do you just bake?"

"Business keeps me pretty busy."

"Show me."

George did a double-take. _He doesn't seem like the baking type._ "Are... are you sure?" Dream's serious expression and determined nod left George defeated. "Fine. No messing around though!"

"Sure. I'll be on my best behavior."

"I'm serious!"

George sprang up from the couch, leading the way down the stairs and into the kitchen. "Okay. First, wash your hands." Both men did. _Dream's behaving himself,_ George noted, pleased. "Grab those papers on the counter, and get out all the ingredients. They're in the cabinet right above them." He pointed to the appropriate places and clapped his hands twice. "Let's get to baking."

Ten minutes later, George was surprised at how well everything was going. Dream had been true to his word. He was on his best behavior for the duration of their work. He was getting riskier tasks as they went along, as he earned more trust. Finally, George trusted him with measuring out the flour. 

_That was a big mistake._ He couldn't help but wonder what decisions lead him to this point. What could he have done to avoid flour covering his otherwise clean hair? He couldn't figure it out, but some traitorous part of him chanted _you would've done it anyway._

Dream reached over and rustled George's hair. "Sorry about that. I just got the impulse." His eyes twinkled with mirth.

"The impulse to throw flour at me?"

"Yeah!" A grin crept onto his face while George tried to keep himself from mirroring it. Dream's eyes softened, and he opened his mouth to take in a breath before speaking.

Just then, there was a knock at the front door of the bakery. "Coming!" George called, ducking under Dream's arm and tossing an apologetic glance back at him. 

He cracked the door. Seeing Techno, he opened it wider, stepping out of the building. Techno waved with two fingers casually. "Hey."

George nodded. "Hi. What'd you come over here for?" He shut the door fully, leaning against it when he became aware of the ache in his leg again. 

"Saw you got yourself into trouble."

"Not really." George wrinkled his nose. "Got attacked by a moose. Almost died. Dream back there saved my ass." Techno chortled. "Sounds like trouble to me."

"More or less. That isn't why you came, is it?"

"I-" Techno took George's shoulder and leaned in. "You sure you okay with him?"

The baker wrinkled his eyebrows. "Why wouldn't I be? He hasn't been anything except respectful and helpful. Actually, I might not have survived if he didn't step in. And he cooks really well." George added the last part with a tiny smile. 

"Seems you two are hitting it off."

"Yeah..."

"You dating yet?"

" _What?_ " George's face reddened quickly. "We aren't- He doesn't-"

"And you do?" He looked down and nodded. "George."

Techno waited until he could make firm eye contact. "I don't trust him, but you clearly do. He would've killed ya already if he wanted to. You can't just hide from your feelings though." He released the other and stepped away, dusting off his uniform. "I need to head out." He promptly left.

George stepped back into the bakery, his head spinning. _Tell him before you lose him._ He walked back into the kitchen. _If you don't say it now, you never will._ "Dream?" The man in question wheeled around.

"Can we talk?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi all, I actually updated again, can you believe it? Anyways, head to chapter 9 if you want to join the discord.
> 
> 2.5k hits? What? I can't believe how quickly those accumulated. Thanks to everyone who helped!


	12. Of Togetherness

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> IT'S BEEN OVER A WEEK YOU GUYS I'M SO SORRY!!!! My mental health was absolutely wacky, and we can't forget MotivationNotFound.
> 
> Also, I had to swallow my pride and get my good friend lavabucket to help with the dialogue. And the story. And the body language. And the characterization. The point is she's a great help (thank you <3).
> 
> Enjoy the story!

"Yeah, of course, what's up?"

George gestured vaguely to the kitchen and shook his head, softly murmuring a request to move upstairs. 

"Got it. Let me get this off my hands first." Dream washed his hands again to rid himself of the remaining flour. He led George up the stairs, patting the couch next to him. "What did you want to talk about?"

"Uh," George started, reaching up to rub the back of his neck. _Do I really want to?_ He dropped his hands back to his lap and fiddled with the hem of his shirt.

"Hey, it's alright, we're friends. If there's a problem we can solve it together. I'm right here with you." Dream reached for George's wrist. He rubbed circles into it with his thumb

If that didn't cut straight to George's heart, he didn't know what would. _Friends. Problem._ He pulled his wrist away, despite every fiber of his being wishing for the comfort that the simple contact could provide. Hurt flashed in Dream's eyes before disappearing quickly.

George dropped his head slightly, turning and facing away from Dream. "It's fine, I figured out what to do." _Hide it._ He stood from the couch.

_"No."_

A hand caught his forearm and gripped firmly, but not painfully. 

"Sit back down?" George turned back around and looked into Dream's green eyes. His eyebrows were drawn together and raised and his voice held a pleading note. He sat, slowly, without breaking eye contact. "You're bothered, George. I care about you. Please, talk to me?"

"It isn't important to you."

"It's important to you, and you're important to me." George scanned his face. His expression displayed nothing but earnestness. 

Dream waited silently while George evaluated his words. _Let me in._ He wouldn't force George to talk if he didn't want to. _Please, please, talk._

"Can I just be general?"

"Of course."

"I like someone, I think. _Like_ like someone."

Dream nodded even though his heart ached at the admission. _Traitor. You weren't supposed to get attached._

"But I don't want to make things weird if I tell them, and-"

"Tell them."

George scooted away from Dream suddenly. "What? I can't just tell them"

"If you tell them you're getting it over with. I'd prefer someone to tell me."

The baker ducked his chin to stare at his knees. So many things could go wrong. _They could go right._ He couldn't like him back. _But..?_ He couldn't dare to hope for anything more than what they had. He couldn't dare to hope for something more than friendship.

"So... can _I_ tell _you_ something?"

George nodded and exhaled. 

"If you like someone, I should probably tell you that I'm, like, 90% sure that I like you too."

George jerked his head up, eyes widening and eyebrows drawing together. "You... what?" _He likes me. He likes me back._ A wave of relief came crashing down on him, and the vice around his chest started loosening its grip.

"Oh, it's fine! I'm totally willing to forget about it."

"It's you. The person I like is you, Dream."

"Oh," replied Dream dumbly. He was almost completely resigned to pining. He had given up hope. _Thank god._ "So, do you want to be boyfriends or something?"

"Don't the townspeople hate you?"

"Yeah." Dream smiled, reaching his hand near George's in a silent request. George immediately took it, making tentative eye contact. "We'll figure it out together."

 _Together._ No matter what happened, they were on the same side. Dream had George in his corner. They would both be fine. It would be a long and rocky road to getting Dream and the town comfortable, but George would stand by him.

And if George happened to get attacked by another moose? Dream would be right there to help.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! This is going to be where this story ends. Stay tuned for a thank-you in just a couple of minutes.


	13. Thank You All

Dearest readers,

Before I can completely end this fic, there are a few things I have to say.

First, thank you to Ship_on_the_Sea for the prompt that started it all. 

Thank you to everybody who commented. Your kind words gave me so much motivation to continue going. A similar thank you goes to everybody who left kudos. I thrive on external validation.

Thank you to everyone who read this fic. Whether you were here from the beginning, you joined in the middle, or you're just reading after I've finished, I am grateful. I hope that you'll maybe check back in every so often? I'm amazed by the warm reception I've been given. Everyone has been nothing short of sweet, supportive, and helpful. 3.2k hits is more than I ever hoped for.

I also have to thank the discord server. It's been amazing interacting with y'all (if you haven't joined I recommend it!). Thanks for letting me see a little more of you.

The biggest thank you goes out to my friends. Thank you all for sticking with me, thank you for the amazing art, thanks for the motivation and validation. I love every one of you in a different way. If you ever need help I'm right here, just like you are for me. <3 ily

Finally, if you guys want to see more and you don't want to join the Discord, you can leave a request in the comments! If you liked this work specifically, request something in this AU. I got attached to it and will be writing more with the same premise. More general requests are also taken (no smut though... please).

I hope to finish something new soon. Until next time!

Sincerely,  
Feather


End file.
